


Beacon

by Amelior8or, Andithiel, gameofdrarrymod, Kristinabird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, POV Alternating, Pining, Professor Harry Potter, Soulmate Bond Lore, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-16 20:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18699040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelior8or/pseuds/Amelior8or, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andithiel/pseuds/Andithiel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gameofdrarrymod/pseuds/gameofdrarrymod, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristinabird/pseuds/Kristinabird
Summary: Every year around Valentine's day Professor Potter is flooded with questions from love struck young girls about soulmates and soulmate bond lore, and every year, he gets through it as quickly as he can so he can return to his lessons. This year, however, his life is turned upside down when he encounters a mysterious object that lands him in St. Mungos, under the care of Draco Malfoy.





	Beacon

**Author's Note:**

> The Rowandark House Round Robin prompt:  
> "This isn’t what I expected when I woke up this morning." + Soulmates AU
> 
> Thank you to [Etalice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etalice) for the beta!

“Professor Potter?”

“Yes, Sam?”

“I was wondering about something I read in the library about soulmates.”

“Samantha, what does this have to do with today’s lesson?”

Samantha had the good sense to look a little ashamed, but continued on, “Nothing sir, but why don’t we learn about them in school? I mean, I read that everybody has one and that they are supposed to be the most fulfilling and loving relationships two people can have, but then why doesn’t everybody try to find theirs?” 

Harry sighed, this topic came up in February every year like clockwork, it was just a matter of which lovestruck young witch brought it up first. Since there was no avoiding it, he decided he may as well answer. “Because Samantha, soulmates are from a much older time in wizarding history. Back then, people tended to live in very small communities and very seldom ventured more than three or four cities away from where they were born. It was much easier back then. These days, people tend to lead much more complicated lives and move around much more frequently. Also a marriage bond with one’s soulmate isn’t the only type of fulfilling and loving relationship. People don’t need the stars or fate to match them to a partner who will love them unconditionally throughout their lives. In fact, less than 5 percent of the population even finds their soulmate anymore, and, in those cases, it’s usually just a lucky accident.”

“How do soulmates identify each other if they do meet?” said Rosie.

“Do they know right away?” Hilary raised her hand and asked.

“Once they’ve met I hear that there is a magical bond that forms between them, is that true?” Diana had a moonstruck face as she perched her chin on her hands. 

Harry thought he would very much like to be done with this topic, but he continued, “No, soulmates do not instinctively recognize their match. Usually, they become bonded once they come into intimate mutual contact with each other. The contact is said to require an element of love or kindness. That can be anything from a first kiss, to helping them up off the ground after they’ve fallen. Once that connection is made, a bond is formed, it is up to the participants of the bond to share it or sever it, although I hear severance can be painful if both parties don’t consent.” 

“But sir, it’s said that your soulmate is your perfect match, a balancing and equal force that can complete you!” Diana shouted.

“It’s meant to be the most blindingly perfect union two people can share. When soul mates meet and bond, they even have the ability to sense what the other wants and needs by instinct, even from a great distance. That they have the ability to calm and soothe their partner through touch and that they become fiercely driven to protect and care for their match. Why would anyone sever that?” said Rosie, eager for an answer.

“Also, I’ve read there are magical means of pulling or attracting your soulmate, is that true?” Sam seemed rather serious.

“Okay, ladies, calm down. Soulmate bond separation is extremely rare and usually done in cases where one of them already has a spouse, in instances of incompatible goals for their lives or varying outside factors. As to magical means of attracting one’s soulmate, those are very old spells and nobody is quite sure how or if they work. Also, they can be dangerous, if you have no idea where the other person is, if they are living, or what their situation is. Not to mention, you may have pulled a totally unwilling person into your world and form an incomplete bond. Now may we continue with the lesson, Ms. Jordan?”

“But despite the risk, for that sort of bond, wouldn’t it all be worth it? To have the person that completes you and loves you unconditionally?”

“Samantha, are your parents soul mates?”

“No, sir.” 

“Do your parents love each other?”

“I think so, sir.”

“Well, as it happens, I know your parents, and I know for a fact that Lee is blindingly in love with your mum. He and Ginny took a long time to find one another, but their marriage is a strong and healthy union, and without it you wouldn’t exist.”

“Yes, sir.” She blushed. 

“Look at that,” he glanced at the clock leaning back against his desk and folding his arms against his rolled up sleeves, “Class is over. Well, I hope this has been enlightening and that we are finished with this topic. Please read the section on Vampires for next class as well as the muggle literature I have provided, and write me three feet of parchment on the difference between muggle lore and fact, detailing specifically how the perception of vampires in muggle culture has affected vampires living in the muggle world.”

A collective groan sounded through the classroom. “Yes, well, life is hard, get over it.” Harry chuckled, remembering those days of essay writing and desperately trying to write bigger to reach the parchment length faster.

He walked about the room, tidying up before lunch, when he spotted an unusual object on the floor. Was he this messy when he was their age? He could hear Hermione in his brain shouting that no, he was much worse, but these kids would lose their heads if they weren’t attached. He noticed a small object on the ground near one of the desks, He figured he’d best pick it up and store it in his desk until someone claimed it. He squatted down and examined it. It looked like someone's ancient runes project. He didn’t know much about the subject, but he did know that this crudely done work was surely not going to get a passing grade. He sighed and picked it up, when suddenly he felt himself spinning and the world went black.

\------------

“Healer Malfoy?” the intern poked her head into the break room. “Are you busy?”

“Not even remotely,” Draco said, crumpling the note from his mother in his hand. It was the fourth one he’d gotten this week. He could practically recite them by now.

_Dearest Draco_ , _now that you have finally established yourself as a Cursebreaking specialist at St. Mungo’s, the Greengrasses have extended the invitation for a private visit to celebrate your pending engagement to their daughter. It has already been six years since your father and I have made the proposal, and we are patiently awaiting your arrival to sign the final paperwork …_

Draco needed to pen an equally polite and pointed response. And he would. As soon as the thought of getting married, even for the sake a formality, didn’t make his ribs feel like they were caving in.

“Please,” Draco replied. “Give me something distracting. Tell me a patient has come in cursed to speak in riddles. Or that a cheating lover has had his parts all rearranged.”

“Er, no,” she said. “But you told us to tell you immediately if Mister Potter woke up.”

Draco instantly stood up. “I did indeed.” He forcefully vanished the crumpled letter _\--_ Let his family obligations wait another day. “Lead the way.”

Harry had apparently been moved into quarantine, which meant that exactly none of Draco’s requested tests had produced anything useful, and more drastic protocols had been followed. Harry was already sitting up when Draco arrived, frowning in confusion at the neon yellow warning signs that only decorated the quarantine ward.

He turned, saw Draco, and said, “Oh, _fuck_.”

Draco paused, eyebrow raised. “My entrance hasn’t gotten that kind of response from you in years. I feel nearly fifteen again.”

Harry frowned. “Sorry. Didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, if I woke up in quarantine, and _you’re_ the first Healer they send to deal with me, whatever this is can’t be good.”

Draco tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You’re not wrong. Technically, I wasn’t the first Healer sent to deal with you, though. You’ve been out for nearly three days, and practically every medical professional in here had a crack at you before I came along.”

“ _Three_ days?”

“Give or take,” Draco said. He set up the standard set of monitoring spells around Harry, added four more for his own peace of mind and then grabbed Harry’s file. “It was after hours when Filch found you unconscious in the empty Defence classroom. There were no witnesses, no spell damage, and no signs of an attack, but all of your vitals have been steadily dropping since you were found.”

Harry brushed his hair back and chewed on his lip. “I don’t remember anyone attacking me. I had dismissed class and was just cleaning up after the messy buggers when I picked up a project with a bunch of runes on it and blacked out.”

Draco looked up from Harry’s file. Antagonistic runes were practically the foundation of curse work. “The investigators found nothing like that around you. Do you remember what the project looked like?”

“Er,” Harry said. “It was…square-ish? I don’t remember much, but I’m happy to give you the memory for a pensieve if you think that might help.”

“I think we’ll need to do exactly that,” Draco said. “But I need a fresh read on your vitals, first. The last recorded set was looking fairly rough.” He set the monitoring spells to show an ongoing readout. “Please remain as motionless as you can. We can still talk, but try not to move around.”

Harry nodded, obeying. He was quiet for a few minutes, then asked softly. “How’s your mother?”

Draco nodded, it wasn’t a surprising question. His mother saw more of Harry now than he did, now that she was trying to mend her relationship with Aunt Andromeda. “Bloody determined to get me married, but quite lovely otherwise.”

“Still?” Harry asked. “Teddy told me that you trained as Potions Master, then as a Curse-Breaker, _then_ as a Healer, because you claimed to be unfit to marry until you had a proper career.”

“That child has a very endearingly good ear for gossip. Andromeda taught him well,” Draco said, but he was only half paying attention to the conversation now. He was frowning at the read-outs. He double-checked Harry’s file, then wiped the monitoring spells and cast a fresh set, but the numbers were exactly the same. “Your vitals are peculiarly strong.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes, but it’s an odd thing,” Draco said. “This morning, your magical core was nearly wiped, your heart rate was dangerously low, and your serotonin and dopamine levels were essentially non-existent. But right now, everything seems to be… thriving.” He flipped through Harry’s file. “Even that massive bruise on your back seems to have healed.”

Harry frowned and sat forward. “I don’t even feel sore. Are you sure the bruise was there?”

“The reports all mention it,” Draco pressed his lips together. “Let me do a manual check. Can you take off your shirt?”

Harry did, sliding his shirt off over toned muscles and bronze skin. Draco was a professional and refused to react, even if Harry was more outrageously fit than strictly necessary. But when Harry twisted to the side to show his back, Draco couldn’t help the sharp inhale.

The bruise _was_ gone. But in its place was the image of two hands, in greys and blacks and browns. They spanned Harry’s entire back, from shoulder to shoulder, reaching out for each other but not touching.

Draco knew exactly what had happened, and it wasn’t a curse at all.

“Harry,” Draco said softly. “You have a soul mark on your back.”

“ _What_?” Harry said, contorting so quickly to see for himself that he nearly tipped off the bed.

Later, Draco would claim that it was his Healer instinct that pushed him to reach for Harry, an instinct he’d have for any patient in need of help. Deep within him, though, burned the absolute knowledge that Draco’s body moved because it was _Harry_ , because it was always Harry, that made Draco mock and challenge and engage and reach out.

And so Draco hands stretched out to catch him, his fingers brushing past Harry’s elbow in an attempt to steady him.

And then he felt himself spinning and the world went black.

\------------

Harry looked down at his food tray. Shepherd’s pie and pumpkin juice with treacle tart for dessert. It would have been appealing if he hadn’t had some variation of this dish for three days now. 

He sighed and glanced over at the bed beside his. Draco lay motionless between starched sheets, looking almost angelic in the light filtering in through the curtains. Harry had never seen him this peaceful. It was a good look on him, even if Harry missed his wit and sarcasm.

The truth was, he had been really scared when Draco had passed out like that. Initially because, well, it wasn’t every day someone went out cold like that in front of him. But when Draco hadn’t woken up, Harry had started to panic and called the nurses. Everyone had rushed in, apparently under the impression that Harry was the one in need of help and had been puzzled to find Draco sprawled out on the floor.

The examination had been thorough, and Harry had, in an attempt to respect Draco’s privacy, tried to avert his eyes and then left the room. But he had only made it to the lunch room when an intense nausea took hold of him, and he had to stagger back, just in time to see the nurses stand back in shock of what they had found on Draco’s body: an exact replica of the mark Draco had discovered on Harry’s, the difference being that the hands stretching over Draco’s back were touching.

The following days passed as if someone had cast an _Impedimenta_ on Harry. Not only was he bored out of his mind of being trapped inside the hospital room (the only comfort being the visiting hours, when Hermione would turn up with books on the subject of old soulmate lore), but he had soon begun to feel a distinct pull towards Draco. Whenever they were alone, Harry had to fight the urge to go over to Draco’s bed and curl up against him. Harry had thought about asking for a screen to put up between their beds, to keep him from staring at Draco, but that had seemed silly and he had dropped the idea.

Suddenly a rustle of blankets made Harry look up from his lunch. Draco was stirring, grey eyes blinking up at Harry.

“What happened?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes while slowly getting up in a sitting position.

Harry swallowed his bite of treacle tart. “You passed out when examining me.”

Draco frowned, thinking. “Oh, right, I remember. I was about to keep you from falling and then everything went black.”

“Yep. You’ve been out for three days.”

Draco sat up a little straighter, staring at Harry. “ _Three days_?” Harry nodded and Draco tilted his head, regarding him. “And you decided to stay with me until I woke up? How very noble of you.”

Harry shrugged. “I do what I can to keep up the reputation. Plus it wasn’t so much a decision as it was a way to stay sane.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I couldn’t go further than ten metres from you before I almost had to sick up.”

Draco’s eyes widened, but it only took a moment for him to school his features in an expression of curious interest.

“Go on.”

“It stopped as soon as I was near you again. I guess… I guess the bond needs to stabilize now that it’s fresh.”

“Oh. So I wouldn’t be wrong to assume I’m now wearing an identical mark to match yours?”

“No, you wouldn’t. But now the hands are touching.”

Draco drew in a sharp breath but quickly tried to cover it by clearing his throat. “So. Soulmates. I wish I could say I’m surprised.”

“You’re not?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve spent my life thinking that you were my soulmate or even believing in the phenomenon, but now that it seems a fact, I guess it fits.”

Draco was right. At school they had always had strong feelings toward each other if not of an affectionate nature. But growing up and getting a second chance after the trials, Harry had seen Draco make amends for his role in the war and for his old beliefs. It had happened on more than one occasion, after dinners at Andromeda and Teddy’s, that he and Draco found themselves at a local pub, talking long into the night, well after Andromeda had had to shoo them out.

“How come this didn’t manifest itself before?” Draco’s voice woke Harry from his reverie. “I mean, we have touched each other in the past.” He looked down at his hands, his cheeks tinted a lovely pink shade. “Like when you saved me from the fiendfyre,” he added so quietly that Harry almost missed it.

“Oh right,” Harry said, feeling his own cheeks grow hot. “Well, my theory is that it has something to do with the object I touched before my blackout. I’ve extracted the memory of that like I said I would and saved it in a flask.”

Draco perked up, examining mode in full swing. He looked beautiful, Harry thought fleetingly, his eyes alight and determined. Harry shook himself. He couldn’t go around thinking about Draco as _beautiful_. They were friends. Well, sort of. Now apparently _bonded_ friends.

“Hermione helped me,” he mumbled.

“Yes, I assumed that much,” Draco said, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Hey! I’m a professor now, remember? I can figure out stuff for myself.”

“Oh yes, your predecessors have certainly put the Defence against the darks arts on the map as being one of the more intellectually challenging subjects, Lockhart obviously being the crown jewel of your lot.”

“Shut it, Malfoy,” Harry said, biting his lip to keep from smiling. “Did you want to see the memory or not?”

\------------

“It’s a what?”

Harry and Draco were seated in their shared hospital room sitting across from each other at a small table covered with the books and notes Draco had been poring over. 

“A soul beacon,” Draco said, tapping his finger on an image in the book and sliding it over for Harry to examine. “It’s a device meant to attract or draw one’s soulmate to them. Once it’s activated, it would act like a homing beacon. The activator puts a portion of their magic into it and the beacon identifies their mate’s signature. Then it magnifies the activators magical signature across large distances seeking and attaching to the mate. Essentially a person’s soul mate would find themselves inextricably driven to make choices that would lead them to the possessor of the beacon. Once the two meet, they both touch the beacon and it dissolves, returning the pieces of each witch or wizard to their owner completing their bond.“

“But this one didn’t work like that, it never sent a signal, or brought you to me or anything, you weren’t affected at all until you touched me.”

“Correct, but this was poorly made. Soul Beacons are very old, very complicated magic even experts in soulbonding aren’t even sure how some of these things work. From what I can see in the memory, a lot of the runes are slightly off or in some cases poorly translated. Like here, the rune for “draw” was mistaken with “tie”. Tie can mean “to come in even in a competition”. In that sense draw and tie do mean the same thing, however, tie can also mean to connect or link, so can bond.” 

“Wait, this is all giving me a headache, are you telling me that you and I are bonded, because some idiot doesn’t know how to use a thesaurus?”

Draco laughed, “Partially, yes.”

“But I’m still confused, what does all that mean?”

“It means that rather than acting as a pull to me, it acted as a bond to me. But since my magic was never pulled it was never in the beacon, it simply bound _you_ to _me._ You were trapped in an incomplete bond. A sort of magical feedback loop where your body only knew it was bonded but had nothing to attach to, so you had the symptoms of a newly bonded wizard separated from his mate. Without me to complete it, you likely would have gotten weaker and weaker until you died.” Draco shuddered.

“But what does that have to do with you?” 

“Absolutely nothing. Again my magic was never pulled. You just got lucky, well, relatively speaking. I’m not sure if you would consider this situation lucky. Had I not happened to cross your path, I never would have been aware or felt that anything was wrong with you. I wasn’t in the bond.”

“But you are now, why?” 

“Merlin, Harry think! You teach this for a living! How are normal soulmates pre-bonded?”

“They identify one another when they first touch with a feeling of love or kind-- OH! I was falling! You meant to help me, you touched me with kind intent, you’d never done that before!”

“Precisely, and when I touched you, the incomplete bond identified its mate and completed.”

“But wait a minute...I pulled you from the fiendfyre. Wouldn’t that have activated it?”

“No, think about it, Harry, was your intent kindness or just a duty to do the right thing? At the time, you would have saved nearly anyone except Voldemort from that fire. Morally, you were incapable of leaving someone, even someone you hated to die. As soon as we were out, we parted still intent on hurting one another. But now, we’re friends, sort of."

Harry looked at him, “We are friends, Draco, not sort of.”

Draco smiled, “Ok, well, now it’s different, when you lost your balance, the worst that would have happened would have been maybe you’d have slid off the bed a bit. You weren’t in any danger, I did it to steady you, just to be helpful. It was different.”

Harry stared at Draco. “You’re brilliant”

Draco blushed. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

“You are.” Slowly, Harry reached out and gently stroked the back of Draco’s hand. “I can’t believe I never saw it before.” 

Draco swallowed, looking up into brilliant green eyes, “ Harry, I --”

“Well, gentlemen! Looks like there’s not much more we can do for you here. Your bond is healthy and normal, there’s no reason to keep you. We’re going to discharge you.”

“Oh!” Harry blinked and turned to look at the plump healer. “Erm thanks, Healer Stamford” 

“Of course, now as this is a new bond, I’m sure you both know it’ll take about 2-3 months to settle. In that time, it’s recommended that you not be more that 15 feet apart, increasing distance and length of time as it becomes comfortable. Draco, as a professional courtesy, I went ahead and filed the paperwork to put you on Bonding Leave, so you’re good to go, just pop in and catch me up on any cases you have ongoing.”

“Thanks Mike, will do.”

Healer Stamford left, and Harry turned to Draco, “Well, I suppose that means we need to figure out where we’re headed. Hogwarts is out of the question obviously.... Do you...er... have a flat? Or I still have a home in London, 12 Grimmauld Place.” Harry squirmed in his seat. 

“My place is a bit small, I know the house you’re talking about, it used to be my great aunt's. That sounds fine...” Draco said, looking away awkwardly. 

“Great, I’ll just um… pop over to Hogwarts and grab a few things. Meet you back here?” Harry said tentatively.

Draco nodded, “I’ll just wrap up my cases.”

“Right.” He smiled. 

“Good.” 

Draco grinned to himself thinking, maybe, just maybe this was going to be ok. Maybe something good was finally happening to him.

“Draco, owl for you.”

“Thanks Shelly,” he said taking it from the nurse. 

His heart sank when he recognized the handwriting.

“ _Darling, I’m so glad to hear you’re awake and on your way to recovery. You gave me such a fright when I was informed you had been rendered comatose. I was of course updated on your condition and was naturally disturbed to hear what had caused it. But don’t be alarmed, I have explained the situation to the Greengrasses and naturally they understand…”_

Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

“ _...They have graciously allowed a delay in your marriage to their daughter pending the procurement of a specialist in breaking soulbonds. I’m aware that this is a delicate procedure so we are sparing no expense to find an expert in the field. I will contact you when we have made the necessary arrangements. Love, Mother”_

Fuck.

\------------

It took thirty-one hours before the _Prophet_ found out that Harry and Draco were living together.

The theories were, unsurprisingly, ridiculous: Draco was clearly holding Harry hostage in his own home. Or perhaps Harry needed a Black blood relative as a willing sacrifice to stop Wallaburga’s curse on wizardkind. Or maybe it was a conspiracy, involving frequent visits from both Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, to go back in time and stop the war before it began by using a former Death Eater’s insider knowledge.

In reality, Harry and Draco just played a lot of Exploding Snap, because after one disastrous attempt at Wizard’s Chess, Draco refused to play with anyone other than Ron. 

When Ron and Hermione weren’t visiting, Ron with groceries and Hermione with rotating stacks of books about soul mates, Harry and Draco spent their days touring Grimmauld, Draco revealing secret nooks and passages that Harry never knew existed. They spent their afternoons in the kitchen, kicking out a disgruntled Kreacher so that Draco could learn to “cook Muggle”. They spent their nights carefully separated on the biggest bed in the place, talking to each other in the quiet and the dark. 

They spent their mornings dancing around each other in the bathroom while they took turns showering, following Hogwarts dorm etiquette and averting their gaze, though Harry’s eyes always drifted to the pale skin and toned muscles that peeked out from Draco’s towel. No matter how often he corrected himself and desperately tried to focus on his toothbrush, Harry found himself lingering on the sight of Draco’s collar bones.

His eyes drifted to Draco a lot. Between the reporters and Hermione’s insistence on limiting any impact to an already volatile, beacon-forced bond, they were stuck at Grimmauld. It wasn’t like he could _not_ look at Draco, less than fifteen feet away at any given moment, with the soft strands of his hair catching the sunlight, and the soft pressure of his fingers pressing into Harry’s shoulder as they maneuvered around each other in the hallway. Ron gave him a firm kick in the shins when he caught Harry watching the tilt of Draco’s head as he argued theory with Hermione, and Harry honestly didn’t even care.

“Pay attention, mate,” Ron said. “They’ve finished debating the theory bits and they’re ready to tell us what the problem is in words we understand.”

“We don’t have much,” Hermione said, looking over. “The soul beacon was potent, but highly unstable, and because your bond is technically incomplete, _any_ attempt to strengthen, weaken, or tamper with it could be disastrous until we know exactly what the beacon requires.”

“All we know is that this beacon demands a specific consensual act to seal the bond,” Draco said, pinching his nose. “A kiss, or marriage, or magic-melding, or even sharing blood. Yet the maker apparently didn’t find the particulars important enough to be actually _written down_.”

Hermione nodded. “The work is incredibly amateur. I really wish there were a living scholar we could consult, but there hasn’t been one since 1836.”

“Really? There’s no one?” Ron asked.

“The only living ‘expert’ is Cyril Celandine,” Draco said. “And he’s an insult to the Curse-Breaking community. He had no issue destroying people in order to break a curse and then charging triple for the honour. He only switched to breaking soul bonds so he could start fleecing Purebloods horrified at discovering their soul mate was a rent boy, and claims he can split a fully bonded pair—which has _never_ happened without severe magical mutilation of both parties. There are even rumours that he used to set soul beacons as traps for Purebloods to get more business.”

“If he knows about making soul beacons, shouldn’t we talk to him?” Harry asked.

“Not unless you want the entire conversation on the front page of the _Prophet_ ,” Hermione said. “What we need is the person who actually made the beacon, so we can figure out how to get this back to a naturally evolving bond.”

“And until then,” Draco said, “We’re stuck with a magical miracle that might just kill us both.”

\------------

“Do you think,” Harry said that night, into the dark. “That I was supposed to shake your hand, back when we were eleven? And that’s what our mark’s about?”

“You mean, do I think we could have created a soul bond naturally, if we had not started as enemies?”

“Basically. No fighting, no bitterness, and a bond that happens properly, instead of this mess created by that blasted beacon.”

“It would have been a safer bond, yes,” Draco said softly. “Better. No need for some specific act to seal the bond or the enforced proximity. But then I would have been used as a weapon to make sure you were killed before the war even started.”

“Or we would have finished off Voldemort by third year and finished our schooling in peace,” Harry said. He paused. “Would your mother still be trying to marry you off to Astoria if we had been bonded?”

Draco sighed. “Soul bonds in an arranged marriage are coveted, but not nearly as much as political advantage in a marriage. My mother wants to bring our family back to the brink of respectability and as far away from the war as possible. The Greengrasses are traditional, proper, and completely removed from both wars.”

“And the Potters are not,” Harry said.

“I think I’m grateful to the beacon,” Draco said quietly. “Despite it all.”

“Yeah, me too.”

\------------

The next morning was another morning of gently shifting around each other in the kitchen as they made tea, after they had carefully skirted each other in the bathroom, making even less eye contact through the shower steam. Only a dozen letters came through the post that morning, and only ten of those were from concerned fans, angry fans, or inquisitive reporters.

Draco frowned as he handed one of the remaining letters to Harry. “It’s from someone named Sam Jordan? She wants to meet you in person to talk about the questions she was asking in your Defense class. Did she fail an exam?”

Harry grabbed the letter. “She was drilling me about soul mates the day I found that soul beacon. Maybe she knows where it came from, and we can—” he paused at the crinkling sound of parchment in shaking hands and looked up to see Draco staring at the last letter. “What is it?”

“It’s my parents,” he said softly. “Father has hired Cyril Celandine to break the bond one way or another, and they’ll both be here by noon.”

\------------

“What were you thinking, Miss Jordan?” 

Draco looked up from the notes and books Sam Jordan had provided him and Hermione with. Sam looked down at her feet, tears forming in her eyes.

“That’s fifty points from Gryffindor,” McGonagall continued, “and you will serve detention for potentially exposing your schoolmates to this crudely done magic. We’re all lucky things didn’t turn out worse than this.”

After the initial shock had settled, Harry and Draco had agreed to go to Hogwarts to find out more about the bond and the effects on Harry’s magic before his parents and this… Bond Butcher they had hired arrived. Deciding that floo travel was too risky for the incomplete bond, they had Apparated together, Harry holding Draco’s arm with more force than was strictly necessary. Draco assumed it was because of his weakened magic.

“There now, Minerva,” Harry said, sitting down beside Sam and slinging an arm around her shoulder. “I think Sam has scolded herself enough about this.” He looked at McGonagall with a determined face, and Draco felt a surge of affection seeing Harry being so protective of his students.

“I’m sorry, Professor Potter,” Sam said in a tiny voice. “I just really wanted to find my soulmate.”

Harry sighed. “I understand that, Sam, it’s okay. We all know you never intended to get us into this mess.”

Suddenly, Hermione gasped.

“Draco! Look!”

Draco turned to see what she had found. Harry got up from his seat and came to stand right behind Draco, putting his chin on Draco’s shoulder to see. Draco swallowed, trying to tamp down the butterflies in his stomach.

“What is it?” Harry asked, his voice vibrating pleasantly through Draco’s body.

“I think I got it now,” Hermione said, pointing at Sam’s notes.

Draco saw it too. 

“What is it?” Harry asked again, voice tinted with impatience.

Draco looked at Hermione, silently begging her to be the one to break it to him.

“It means that to complete the bond, and for Draco’s magic to mix with yours as well, you two need to kiss. At sunset, by the Great Lake.”

Harry slid a shaking hand through his hair, looking exasperatedly at Sam. “Really?”

Sam shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I meant to say “by the ocean” but I guess I got that wrong as well.”

Harry let out a shaky laugh. “Well, at least you didn’t misspell it to the Pacific Ocean.” He swallowed. “A kiss at sunset. Okay. But Draco’s parents and Celandine are coming at noon.”

“You’ll be safe as long as you’re here, Harry,” McGonagall said, and Draco was, not for the first time, baffled at the tone of her voice when speaking to Harry. This was the most affectionate he had heard her speak to, well, anyone ever. “If they even find out where you’ve gone, they will have me and the entire staff to tackle before they could reach you.”

“Thank you, Minerva,” Harry mumbled. “And does the bond—?” He turned to Hermione, avoiding eye contact with Draco. “Will the bond be affected if the attraction is only one sided?”

Draco’s heart clenched. Right. Of course. Apparently Harry wasn’t so oblivious as everyone wanted to make him. He had obviously noticed Draco’s attraction to him and was worried how his magic would be affected because he didn’t reciprocate.

“The bond should be fine, Harry, but I really don’t think—-.”

“As long as there’s consent, there’s no problem,” Draco said, cutting Hermione off. “And I’ll be happy to help you access all of your magic again. I mean, that’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

Draco vaguely noticed Hermione and McGonagall exchange looks and even Sam looked perplexed. But Harry’s face was what drew his attention, it was oddly blank and expressionless, his eyes shiny.

“Right. Friends,” he said. “I’m sorry, I… I need a moment.”

He went out of the room, leaving a strained silence behind him. Draco was confused. Had he said something wrong? 

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Hermione snapped, “you two deserve each other.”

Draco turned to her. “What?”

“You’re both so stupidly blind. Harry _obviously_ wants you, Draco!”

“He does? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s hard _not_ to notice,” Sam piped up. “I mean, you watch each other all the time.”

Hermione snorted. “Yes, old habits die hard.”

The door opened and Harry stepped in again.

“Sorry, Minerva, I had to sick up behind the gargoyles,” he mumbled at the floor. “I Vanished it but I think some of the smell lingers.”

“Right,” McGonagall said. “Well, we best go and take care of that, haven’t we? Hermione? Miss Jordan? Care to help me?”

“Oh! Yes!” Hermione said, grabbing a mildly protesting Sam and dragging her out of the office.

Draco snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked, still not looking at Draco.

“The subtlety of our friends. And the fact that I actually thought you weren’t that oblivious when you obviously are.”

“Hey! I notice things, I—,” Harry started but was cut off by Draco as he slung his arm around Harry’s waist, bringing him close.

“I don’t think you need to worry about the attraction being one sided,” he said, brushing his lips against Harry’s, which sent sparks of pleasure along his spine.

“I don’t?” Harry sighed, nipping at Draco’s lower lip.

Draco shook his head, pressing himself closer. “I want you, Harry. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.”

“But this doesn’t complete the bond, it’s not at sunset by the Great Lake,” Harry whispered, eyes closed.

“It’s not? Bummer. Does this mean I have to kiss you again?”

Harry laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m afraid so.”

“You know what,” Draco said, resting his forehead against Harry’s, “I actually have something to do before we complete the bond terminally. I have a letter to compose.”

\------------

_Dearest Mother, Father,_

_I regret to inform you that my long awaited marriage to Astoria Greengrass cannot take place. Tonight Harry and I have completed our soulbond. Neither of us wishes to sever this bond, and since it was initiated by a beacon, if it_ were _to be severed both my health and the Saviour of the Wizarding World would be at great risk. I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to try that, however much they were to be paid._

_But don’t despair, we are willing to let you plan the upcoming wedding between Harry and me. We’re looking forward to discussing proper wedding garments and decorations in the near future._

_Yours, etc._

\------------

“Draco! You aren’t supposed to see me before the ceremony!”

“Oh please, that's a silly muggle superstition, besides, have you forgotten? We’re already magically bonded. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with you whether I like it or not.”

“Oh... how tragic for you. How ever do you survive such a horrendous burden!”

Draco laughed, pulling Harry close, “Somehow I bear the torment.” He kissed him sweetly and smiled. “I can’t believe it, this time tomorrow, you’ll be my husband.”

“We’ve been planning this for months. Why do you suddenly look so surprised?”

Draco had always known he was gay, but he’d resigned himself to the fact that he would be married off to a woman and spend his entire life trapped in a lie to please his parents. He never thought he’d find himself here, smiling and ecstatic, on the morning of his wedding to a man. And not just any man, the most incredible man he’d ever known.

“Harry, wizards all over the country would kill to be in my shoes, but you’re choosing me. Do you have any idea how insane that is to me?” He cupped Harry’s cheek and stroked his hair gently. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you Harry, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy.”

“You’re an idiot.” Harry grinned.

Draco gave him a questioning look.

“Did it ever occur to you that I feel exactly the same way?” Harry leaned in and took Draco’s lips in a kiss that began gently but quickly became heated.

All too soon, they were interrupted by a small squeak behind them. Draco broke the kiss, keeping a tight hold on his husband to be, their foreheads still pressed together. Without turning, he took a shaky breath and said, “Yes, Mimsy?”

“Master Draco, the caterers have arrived, and they is wanting you to come and sign sir.”

Draco sighed, “I’ll be right there.”

Mimsy Disapparated with a pop. 

They straightened their clothes and made their way to the kitchens, “Good Morning, Victoria.”

“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” said the cheerful blonde, handing over a clip board as servers poured in carrying trays of food.

Harry watched the proceedings with interest as Draco looked over the papers she’d handed him. 

“Draco?”

“Hmm...love?” Draco answered, engrossed in the pages in his hand.

“Didn’t we order treacle tarts, for the dessert course?”

“Yes, of course we did, they’re your favorite.” Draco said waving a hand in Harry’s direction as he flipped to the next page. 

“I don’t see them here is all.”

“What?” Draco said looking up from the clipboard and over at the staging tables the servers had loaded with food. 

“I cancelled them and replaced them with miniature lemon ricotta cheesecakes. They are much more appropriate for a summer wedding. Don’t you agree dear?”

Draco turned around to face his parents. “Mother…”

“Draco,” she smiled sweetly, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about, they’re just tarts darling.”

Draco remained calm, “This isn’t about tarts, Mother, and you know it.” His smile said a thousand words, and he knew she understood all of them. She had changed the order because she knew Harry liked them. This was her subtle pureblood brand of petty retaliation because he wouldn’t sit still and shackle himself to someone he didn’t love like a good boy. She disapproved of Harry because of his family, his gender, his lack of manor-bred decorum, and his general impulsivity.

“I just want this...wedding...to be an elegant, dignified, respectable affair.”

“Oh Mother,” he smiled sweetly. “I don’t think you need to worry about instructing me on decent and respectable. You and I have a very different opinion of what that means. But now that I’m no longer a child, I think I can find my own way. In fact with the Ministry restrictions placed upon father, I am effectively the head of this family, and I think it’s time we start doing things a little differently around here.”

Narcissa opened her mouth to reply, but Lucius put a hand on her arm to stop her. 

Draco turned back to Victoria, who looked very much like she wanted to melt into the wall rather than be in the middle of this personal dispute. 

“Victoria, darling, treacle tarts are my fiance’s absolute favorite dessert. It’s still only 9am. We won’t get to dessert till around 6 or 7, I’d wager. Would it be possible to scramble and get some in time? It’s just that one of my vows is that I plan to do everything possible to make this man happy, and I’d hate to break it on the first day of my marriage.”

“Um...I suppose so, I’ll need to call in some additional help and it is very last minute, I’ll have to charge extra for that on top of the cost of the new dessert.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Draco smiled sweetly, signing the pages on the clipboard and handing it back to her. He took Harry’s hand and turned to leave, “You can charge them to my mother’s personal account.” And with that he swept out of the room taking Harry with him.

As he passed by them, his mother was fuming, her sense of decorum the only thing keeping her from causing a scene. But when he looked at his father, he was surprised to see what looked like respect in his eyes. 

\------------

As Draco lay panting and satiated in Harry’s arms, the magic of their bond tingling around them, he smiled.

“What?” Harry said looking down at him. “I was just thinking, five months ago, I woke up in a world where I was alone and doomed to be married to a woman I didn’t want, and then you showed up as a patient in my hospital and turned everything upside down. You never can just be boring can you, Harry?”

“Honestly, Draco, I don’t go looking for trouble, trouble usually finds me.”

“And now you’ve gone and dragged me down with you.” Draco laughed.

“I can try to be more boring if you’d like.”

“Bite your tongue Harry Malfoy-Potter.”

“Merlin, I love the sound of that. As to my tongue, I’m sure I can think of more creative things to do with it.”

“Already? My god, you’re insatiable.”

“It’s not my fault my husband is bloody gorgeous.” Harry said, nipping along Draco’s neck. 

“Ungghhh, fuck, Harry. I love you, remind me to send Sam Jordan a thank you note…”

“Shhh...later…."


End file.
